


Season's Greetings

by MusicalProstituteMyDear



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, B/c screw that, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Gen, Little!Richie, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, just for now, will update tags as I go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22161214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalProstituteMyDear/pseuds/MusicalProstituteMyDear
Summary: It's the holiday season, and the Loser's meet-up to exchange gifts, make memories, and meet someone special. (Or, Richie introduces the crew to his little side.)
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 94





	Season's Greetings

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for clicking. Anyway, I wanted more little!Richie/ageplay IT content, so I decided to write some. Yes, I know Christmas has passed, but do I care? Frankly, no. Don't like it? Don't read it, please. Enjoy!

“C’mon, kiddo, smile for Uncle Bill!"

Innocently plopped on his friend’s rug, Richie awaited an impending flash to burst from the man-in-question’s camera. The Hanscom’s home was decorated festively and appropriately for the holiday season; a grand pine stood reverently in the corner of their large sitting room, patiently waiting to greet the Losers in their festivities. Ever since they shanked a certain murderous clown three years ago, the group made a vow to spend more time with one another—through thick and thin, they were family, and what better time of the year to spend with your family than in December? 

Richie had been on edge all week long; with the holidays approaching alongside the airing date of his risqué Netflix special (featuring his own material), the usually talkative jokester had grown distant. Eddie, bless his heart, suggested that their super-not-last-minute Christmas party was the perfect time to introduce the rest of the gang to the baby. Of course, not a  _ real  _ baby, but an honorary one, nonetheless—Richie had been skeptical of how the people he’d known and cared about basically all his life would react to this certain aspect of himself, but his husband convinced him that  _ nothing  _ would ever measure up in sheer weirdness to what they’ve already had to deal with. 

And so, here they were, with Richie fully immersed in his headspace, swaddled in his candy-cane jammies, hair a mop of dark curls, nursing his pacifier anxiously as the entirety of his friend group cooed at how incredibly adorable he was. The four sets of eyes that were glued to his person made him feel so tiny, but if anyone knew anything about Richie Tozier, it was that he’d been an absolute sucker for attention ever since the  _ first _ time he was in diapers. 

Needless to say, the kid was in  _ heaven.  _

Stanley and Eddie were in the kitchen, preparing finger platters and an assortment of other foods for the rest to munch on while they all exchanged gifts, drank, sang, took photos… Stan was the only one who knew of what Eds and Richie had been up to when the comedian needed to relax. He looked over the table into the living room to see Mike, Bill, Beverley, and Ben laughing up a storm over the fact that Richie had sneezed so intensely, a string of verdant snot was dangling out of his nose. Bev goes over to him with one of the boy’s bibs to clean up his boogers while Bill snaps a quick picture. 

“They seem to be taking to him very easily,” remarked Stan. “I mean, what’d you expect? Pitchforks? Torches?”

Eddie smiles and starts to mix a salad together. “No, I didn’t. I’m relieved, Stan… nothing to worry about.”

“Eds, we all love Richie. We’re glad that he’s actually letting us show him. Not to mention, he hasn’t said a single, coherent word since yesterday. If anything, I think I prefer baby Rich to big Rich.” Stan chuckled when Eddie raised his eyebrows in agreement by taking a long swig of his (mostly vodka) eggnog. 

Back in the living room, Ben started a game of peek-a-boo with his favourite nephew. The boy’s eyes lit up with infantile wonder, giggles ringing throughout the room every time Ben would take Richie’s Kermit blankie and pull it downward with a  _ whoosh  _ to reveal a different silly face. 

Bill‘s expression seemed to convey amusement. “It’s like he’s a r-ruh-real baby, huh?”

“I read this book on coping mechanisms a couple years back. There was a whole chapter on regression. It’s definitely a nondestructive,” said Mike. “His mind is escaping adulthood by reverting back to a simpler time. Richie’s inclination to be cared for pairs well with Eddie’s own to care. For all intensive purposes, he  _ is _ one.”

Mike, ever the educated man, always knew exactly what to say. Bill smiles at his husband and turns to Bev, who took this as her cue to join in. “You’ve gotta admit, he’s pretty friggin’ cute like this.”

In tandem, Mike and Bill nodded. By now, Ben had exhausted their little game, and Richie took a second to remove his pacifier and chew on his fingers, scanning the room for any signs of Eddie. He looked at his Uncle Ben appealingly, letting out a tiny whine. “Dada gone?” Richie questioned around his digits. 

Ben smiles softly at him, grateful that Richie is comfortable to be his youngest mindset around him. “No, little man, your dada’s busy making dinner with Uncle Stan. But, he’ll be here soon so we can open presents together! How’s that sound?”

Emmy®️ award-winning comedian and running trashmouth of forty-three years Richie Tozier—who never let anyone forget that he fucked  _ your _ mom—was now hysterically laughing due to the architect blowing a loud, wet raspberry on one of his plump cheeks. 

Eddie and Stan suddenly appear at the entrance of the living room, leaning against the upholstery. “What’re you guys doing? Having all the fun without us?” Eddie asks in a mock-offended tone. 

“Dada!” Richie squeals, making grabby hands for his caregiver. 

Eddie heads over to where Richie is sitting and heaves him onto his hip. “Hello, mister, are you being good for your Aunt and Uncles?” 

The boy nods against his caregiver’s warm chest. “Yea, I good, dada. P’omise.”

The crew lets out an  _ awe _ at this simple interaction. Richie’s ears grew pink with pure embarrassment before he turned his face into Eddie’s shoulder, who then proceeded to rub soothing circles on the baby’s back. 

With a smile bright enough to rival the sun, Mike notes that it’s “very uncharacteristic of our Rich to be this shy.” 

“N’aw, we didn’t mean to fluster you, bubba,” Stanley coaxes, but to no avail, as Eddie begins to lightly rock him back and forth. “I guess Aunty Bev and I are going to have to eat all those cookies by ourselves. Isn’t that right, Aunty Bev?” 

Beverly decided to play along. “I think so, Uncle Stan. We’ll have to have Uncle Mikey and Uncle Bill help us out, too!” 

“S-sounds like a plan, Aunty B-Bev.”

Eddie feels a hum against his shirt. Richie is practically wriggling in his hold, thinking of how all the yummy Christmas sweets are going to be gone soon if he doesn’t show his face! His littlespace-brain had to make a decision, and a quick one at that: get put to bed early on a  _ holiday _ or give in, let his family baby the crap out of him, and eat some darn cookies?

Richie chewed once more on his fingers as he thought of his next move. After what appeared to be an eternity, pleading hazel eyes finally met a room of hopeful grins to utter a barely vocal, yet present “cookie?”

With that, it seemed he’d fully succumbed to his headspace. The room erupted with pleasant cheer, especially now that they’d won him over. The night continued with an intense game of Heads Up, a yankee swap that seemed to go on forever, and delectable food that would surely leave them in a collective coma by the next morning. Although Eddie didn’t want his boy eating too much junk, he let the others feed him piles of sugar that’d surely make him sleep like a… well, a baby.

By 10:30 p.m., Richie was rubbing his eyes with his fists lazily from where he sat cuddled against Bev, his yawning greatly increasing. Eddie took this as his cue to put him to bed while everyone else drank and chatted the night away. The redhead transferred the boy over to his caregiver, quietly walking him into their shared room for the night. The group was sleeping over the couple’s home, as by some act of God, they all were able to clear their schedules for a single evening—not to mention, Ben and Bev were more than willing to save their friends from driving in the menacing snowstorm.

After a quick change, Eddie kisses Richie’s forehead softly, tucking him snuggly underneath the downy duvets. He nudges the boy’s pacifier in his mouth, to which he quickly latches onto and begins suckling. Eddie adoringly gazes down at the image of his little nodding off to sleep. He knew this must’ve been rough for Richie, and he was incredibly proud of him. “Sweet dreams, kiddo,” Eddie whispers. "We love you beyond words." Quietly, the bedroom door is closed behind him.

Back in the living room, the rest of the Loser’s were enjoying their night, the drowsiness setting in. They return Eddie’s tired, yet heartfelt, smile, and let him know they'd move heaven and earth for their little guy.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm making this a series with all of them, so if you guys have any suggestions, I'm willing to do any of the Loser's! Keep it PG, please. Thank you for reading! X


End file.
